Hrishikesh Srinivas


You’re in


I came to see if you’re
                                                                            in
I came to see if
                                                             you’re in
I came to see
                                              if you’re in
I came to
                               see if you’re in
I came
                to see if you’re in
I
came to see if you’re in.

I came to see if you’re in
                               You’re in.
I came to see if
                You’re in, you’re in.
I came to see
If you’re in, you’re in.



Les valseurs sans voiles
after the sculpture by Camille Claudel

                                 Now you know

Worse for show     Stopping gales

What was it?        In my voice

But that lift       A siding

Kept your loving ear there.

This dance is to dispel

My sense of your notions

Yours of mine unspoken

This moment

Its elision recrimination

Lean in so,      And find me

Gone but for      Your guiding

My hand, your      Torso; let

Mores coil                My body’s

Youth for my              Room in your

Shoulders as                  Thresholds brush

Your beating                   My raising

Heart’s anchor.

Own words


Consider the pen: not a GUN
Not even SNUG as^I
Yet for all it ain’t capable of
It is

messenger

 &

asyndeton

.

Words are marked no more
Than _{denominations} ignored
Yet endlessly

ltd.

by them

__________

^Is expression’s e n d l e s s freedom.




Hrishikesh Srinivas hails from Sydney, Australia. He is a science and engineering graduate of the University of New South Wales, and also enjoys reading and writing poetry, with poems having appeared in UNSWeetened Literary Journal and the 'Laughing Waters Road: Art, Landscape and Memory in Eltham' 2016 exhibition catalogue.
 
 
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